


The Modern Family

by vipjuly



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Autism Spectrum, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Dean is Claire's Parent, First Kiss, First Meetings, Implied Sexual Content, In A Relationship And Completely Unaware, M/M, Raising Children Together, Single Parents, this story has some crack-y moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24493744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vipjuly/pseuds/vipjuly
Summary: Choosing to be a single parent is never easy. Worrying about being a good father is always on Castiel's mind, especially when Jack acts out. Castiel meets Dean, a fellow single father, who is a little unorthodox for a parent, but sets the bar in being loving and patient. When their children bond their lives seamlessly blend together, and eventually, more than just their children create a connection...A tale of patience, understanding, growth, and acceptance.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 105
Kudos: 534





	The Modern Family

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is inspired by fanart from [diminuel](https://www.instagram.com/diminuel/). Not only did I find it extremely cute, but the description hit home for me. Jack’s behavior and Castiel’s struggles are based on a very personal experience of my own. Jack’s experiences in life and the off-screen experiences with doctors line up with a child I was in charge of.
> 
> No offense is meant towards those with autism or those whose lives are affected by autism. As always, I want to be respectful. If anything in this work is offensive or could be enhanced/changed, please let me know.
> 
> Uncertain times around the world have become even more uncertain in light of recent events. I hope this puts a smile on your face. 
> 
> Also, happy June; happy Pride Month, to _everyone_ under the LGBTQIA umbrella. You are valid, you are worthwhile, and I love you.
> 
> this work is un-betaed.

(In case the image does not embed: [click here](https://diminuel.tumblr.com/image/618793686172581888)) 

“No!”

“Jack-” 

“ _No!_ ”

Sighing, Castiel looks down at his toddler helplessly. It’s a beautiful day in the park; the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and Jack is refusing to drink from his sippy. It’s so hot, Castiel’s worried about him getting dehydrated. He can’t exactly force a child to suck through a straw. Especially when said child is too busy playing in the sandbox and getting sand God knows where. The park is extremely stimulating for little Jack, and if he doesn’t get to do exactly what he wants to do for exactly how long he wants to do it… game over. 

“One sip?” Castiel tries again, holding the Lion King sippy cup towards his son, who he has held in front of his chest.

Jack turns his nose up, then wiggles around until he’s dropped, stomping back towards the playground.

At least he’s playing nice with the other kids, Castiel supposes. 

He ignores all of the moms at the park sending him very interested glances, which he pointedly ignores. He’s been here thirty minutes and he can feel every single gaze roving over his body like a touch. He’s wearing his work clothes, having picked up Jack on his way home. He lost his suit jacket, but his tie is still done and his slacks are still pressed. He thinks he should have changed, considering Jack’s grubby fingers have already left prints on his dark pants, but if he went home to change and _then_ they came to the park he would have lost steam. 

Being a single parent is tough for a lot of reasons, but at thirty-four, Castiel feels like he’s close to his grave just based on the fact that Jack has endless energy. How does a child sleep for twenty minutes and then wake up like they slept for ten years? Castiel’s lucky to get six hours a night and feel any sort of good. As soon as the sun’s up, Jack’s up, no matter what time he went to bed. 

The park is nice, though. It gets them both outside and Castiel can forget, for just an hour or two, that his life is spiraling out of control and the only constant thing that grounds him is his son. 

Crying catches his attention suddenly, bringing him out of his thoughts. Well- it catches everyone’s attention. Parental instincts take over every adult at the park as they look around to see the source of the crying, spines straighter, heads on swivel. 

And then _other_ instincts kick in when they see who the child is currently latched onto.

An incredibly handsome man, around Castiel’s age, with sandy blond hair and tan skin, biceps pressing against the hem of his sleeves of his t-shirt as he reaches down to pick up his toddler daughter. Castiel is just close enough to see the concerned pinch of his brow as he softly inquires after her crying. He tries not to stare, really, but the man has his daughter perched on his hip, her curly blonde hair flying about as she shakes her head and wails louder. Where she’s positioned on his hip accentuates the taper of his waist and oh, his legs are bowed in a way that forcibly draws the eye, and now Castiel understands all of the mothers staring at him as he tended to Jack. 

After a few moments of hushed conversation, the man’s gaze searches the adults of the park, before landing on Castiel, guided by the little girl’s pointing finger.

Castiel’s mouth goes dry.

With his daughter still on his hip, tearful and sniffly, the man walks over to him confidently. His daughter was just throwing a fit and yet he looks... unruffled. Is he human? What’s it like to not feel your own earth crumble beneath you when your child cries? 

“Hey,” the man says, his voice deep and pleasant. Up close, Castiel can see freckles smattered attractively over his skin. “Is that your boy?” He shifts the girl in his arms, pointing towards where Jack is building a castle. 

Standing up, Castiel feels a bit of panic. “Yes- did he do something?” 

“Oh-” the man lifts his free hand, chuckling lightly. “Not at all. He’s a good kid. Claire and I were getting ready to go, but she uh, doesn’t want to leave her new friend yet. So I told her I’d ask his daddy if they can have a playdate.” 

Blinking rapidly, feeling his head go a little woozy, Castiel tries to process a few things - especially the word ‘daddy’ coming out of his beautiful man’s mouth. For a second, he forgets to speak. Then, Jack comes rushing up to them, tears in his eyes when he sees the girl - Claire - on her father’s hip.

“Are you weaving?” he asks wetly, reaching up for her.

Claire squirms in her dad’s arms, trying to reach for him as well. “Don’t wanna!”

“Hey-” the man shifts Claire to his other hip as Castiel picks up Jack. “We’re fixin’ it now, kiddos. Give us a second to talk, huh?” 

Jack and Claire both start squirming and, together, the man and Castiel let them down, watching as they hold hands and run back to the playground.

“I gotta say,” the man rubs the back of his neck, smiling crookedly. “She’s never been that friendly with a kid at the park before.” 

“Neither has Jack,” Castiel says, a little shocked. He turns towards the man, speaking honestly in his bewilderment. “Jack has.... Some concerning social issues that we’ve been working through with doctors.”

“Ah,” the man nods. Then, he looks a little awkward when he asks, “Is he uh… autistic?” 

“Somewhere on the spectrum. We’re not sure yet because he’s still so young.” 

“Right,” the man puts his hands in his pockets, rocking on his feet a bit. “Oh-!” He pulls a hand out, looking sheepish as he holds it out to Castiel. “I’m Dean. My monster’s name is Claire.” 

Surprised and confused at the man’s beautiful hand out towards him, Castiel’s a little belated when he reaches out as well. Dean’s eye twinkles slightly as they shake, grip firm and yet oh so soft. “I’m Castiel. My boy is Jack. Jack- is my son. You- you know his name is Jack.” He bites his lower lip, yanking his hand away and turning to face the park, silencing himself. God he’s an idiot. 

“Alright, Cas,” Dean says. “Is it ok if I call you Cas?”

“Mhm,” Castiel replies, tight-lipped. 

Chuckling, Dean moves to stand next to Castiel as they watch their children play together. “Anyway, like I was saying: Claire don’t usually get so taken with the other kids. Likes to keep to herself. When she started freaking out it confused me.” 

“Jack has been rather picky for the past twenty minutes or so,” Castiel recalls. “I see now it’s because he didn’t want to lose time with Claire.” 

“Cute,” Dean comments. He elbows Castiel’s arm gently, turning a beaming smile towards him. “Whaddya say ‘bout a playdate? We can just meet at this park if going to a house is uncomfortable.” 

“Ah,” Castiel nods, then bites his lip. “I would have to check my schedule… Jack is in daycare for most of the day. And I-” A bit of nerves grips him. Dean is so gorgeous and their children getting along freaks him out only because Castiel is such an idiot around attractive men and spending more time with one is very intimidating. It’s not super important that _they_ get along, only that their kids do, but-

“That’s fine,” Dean says, clearly sensing Castiel’s insecurities. “I work from home so any time you wanna get together is good. We can be there on a dime.” 

“What do you do?” he finds himself asking. 

“Carpentry,” Dean replies with a proud smile. “Kind of a hobby, really. Don’t _need_ to work, but I feel worthless if I don’t.”

“Stay at home husband?” Castiel inquires, not selfishly at all. Dean’s left hand is still in his pocket. 

“Oh, no,” Dean makes an exaggerated frowny face, shaking his head. “No, no. I’m not married. I just am, uhhhh, financially comfortable?”

“Is that a question?” Castiel asks, amused. 

Laughing, Dean turns twinkling green - GREEN! - eyes towards Castiel, a warm expression on his features. “You on for a playdate?”

A few… scandalous scenarios play through Castiel’s head before he pushes them out quickly and reconnects to the conversation. Sharing a small smile, he nods. “We’re on.” 

He knows Jack will behave and play nice. 

Castiel’s rather unsure as to whether or not _he_ can behave.

\--

Saturday morning finds Castiel and Jack at the park. Castiel has been nervous since meeting Dean a few days ago, thinking about him being single, and good looking, and friendly, and confident, and good looking, and so kind, and good looking-

Jack is over the moon. With the promise of playing with Claire he’s been on his best behavior- not that Jack isn’t a great kid, but he does have some behavioral issues that Castiel has problems handling. He’s a moody kid. He loves his dad, it’s clear and obvious, but he also has troubles expressing his needs verbally sometimes, which frustrates him and causes him to lash out. And when he wants to be alone he wants to be _alone_ , though Castiel has a hard time letting that happen because, well, Jack’s only three years old and letting him be _actually_ alone is really dangerous and not a good idea.

This means that Jack doesn’t have many friends. At the daycare he chooses to stay mute and not interact with anyone except the teacher and the lunch lady. Castiel has been doing his best to integrate Jack into being social, through doctor recommendations and his own inventions, but nothing’s perfect. 

Claire is a blessing. 

Jack won’t stop talking about her, asking about her. He’s so excited to play with another child, Castiel feels an odd relief wash over him day after day. Maybe all his son has needed is a friend. 

They’re waiting for Dean and Claire, Castiel sitting on a picnic blanket where he has a good view of all of the toys and playground equipment. It’s early enough that it isn’t hot or too populated, a few other families toiling around. Castiel hadn’t been sure what to bring, so in a cooler tote he has a few containers of chopped fruit, plenty of wet wipes, and a few bottles of Pedialyte.

“Hey!” 

Dean shows up exactly at nine. Claire runs off towards Jack, the pair of them squealing and hugging when they see each other, before running off to play. 

“Check you out,” Dean says as he approaches the blanket, the approving smile on his features making Castiel’s tummy leap. “Nice setup.” 

“Join me,” Castiel finds the courage to say, reaching out and patting the blanket next to him.

Smiling, Dean easily sits next to Castiel without complaint. He puts the bag in his hand next to Jack’s bag and the picnic bag, letting out a pleased sigh as he sits criss cross and leans back on his hands. “This is nice. Haven’t had a picnic in forever.” 

“It is nice,” Castiel agrees. The company makes it especially nice. He sends Dean a small smile. “How was your week?”

“Aw man,” Dean pulls a face, but it quickly turns into a chuckle, “Same ol’ same ol’. Made a bench. Learned how to braid.”

Arching a brow, Castiel looks out towards the playground, hoping to catch sight of Claire’s hair.

“Don’t bother,” Dean says with a bit of pain. “It’s a ponytail today. I made a half-decent braid and when she saw it in the mirror she said it was ugly.”

“She doesn’t hold back,” Castiel says with some amusement.

“She was right, though,” Dean laughs. “Nothin’ like a kid’s honesty.” 

“Jack told me recently that he hates when I shave,” Castiel says, lifting up a hand to idly run his fingers over his stubble. “A beard would be too unkempt for work, but stubble is alright. I think it’s a sensory thing. He likes to touch my face.” 

“Ah,” Dean nods thoughtfully. “I uh- y’know, don’t know much about… what Jack - or you- is goin’ through so if I ask any dumb questions, let me know. But I’m… curious.” 

“I won’t be offended by anything,” Castiel says, looking towards Dean, melting a little at his gentle inquiry. “Autism isn’t some curse word you shouldn’t say in polite company. It can’t be normalized if we don’t talk about it.” He looks out towards the playground, catching sight of Jack and Claire going down the slide side by side. “And… truthfully, I’m still learning, too. All of the information the doctors give me… sometimes it feels like I’m drowning. I have so much to read, that by the time I get to a key point, I figure out that exact bit of information could have helped me the previous week during a meltdown.” He shrugs. It feels good to talk to someone other than a teacher or a doctor about Jack. “Things are still up in the air, too. He could be on the spectrum, or he could just be a sensitive kid. I’m learning everything I can, though.” 

“You’re a good dad,” Dean says, a warm tone to his voice. “What about Jack’s mom?” 

Castiel shifts to sit criss cross as well, already predicting his aches and pains. “I fathered Jack through a surrogate. I was going to go through all of the hoops of an adoption agency, because being a father is something I’ve always wanted, even if I was single when it happened. One of my friends was kind enough to offer her services.” He drums his fingers over the curve of his knee. “She passed away during childbirth.”

“Shit,” Dean breathes. He reaches out, gently putting a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” 

He sends Dean a small smile. “It’s been difficult just knowing my friend is gone, but Jack will grow up without ever meeting his own mother. We had lots of plans.” He catches himself, flushing and mentally kicking his own butt. “I’m sorry, that’s a lot of information-”

“No-” Dean laughs, pulling his hand away from Castiel’s shoulder. “No it’s not. Kinda nice to talk to someone, y’know?”

Castiel’s head tilts curiously. How is Dean reading his mind?

Dean shrugs a little. “Claire ain’t biologically mine. My pal Jody runs a home for wayward girls. One of them got pregnant, managed to kick drugs for all nine months, and then as soon as Claire was born… she went off the deep end. Overdosed and died. Jody didn’t want to give Claire up. Felt like her grandma, basically. So… she called me.”

Eyes widening, Castiel’s jaw drops a little. “And you just… stopped your life? To be a father to a baby you didn’t even know existed?”

“Basically,” Dean sends Castiel a grin. “Best decision of my life. I didn’t know I wanted anything to do with kids til’ I held her for the first time. And… even though she wasn’t mine, she felt _right_. She was a gift, man. I was breakin’ my back, a workaholic, drinking too much to cope with my job. Couldn’t settle down with anyone for longer than a weekend ‘cause I was working too much. Was real shitty to my brother and all of my friends. Soon as I had Claire it was like a switch flipped.” 

They take a moment to look out at the playground, sharing a quiet peace between them as they look at their children. 

Castiel says quietly, “Lately I haven’t been sure if I’m the best dad for Jack.” The other man stays quiet, so he runs a hand through his hair and slouches a little. “I’m exhausted. He’s exhausting. I know he can’t help it, but… sometimes I bend, and I’m afraid I’ll break. My sleep schedule is awful. I feel terrible sending him to daycare because I know he hates it. When we do have time together sometimes I don’t feel like his dad, I feel like-” he clears his throat. “Sometimes I feel like I’m going through the motions.”

“Woah, buddy.” Dean shifts to scoot closer, rubbing a comforting palm over Castiel’s back. “Hey man, it’s ok. Plenty of parents hit rough patches. That’s what bein’ a parent is, y’know? A rollercoaster. You have shitty times, and then you have good times.”

“Everything since his birth has been a disaster,” Castiel says quietly, “and I take the blame.” 

“Hmm,” Dean’s hand rests warmly between Castiel’s shoulder blades. “What do you do outside of work?” 

Sending Dean a puzzled glance, Castiel thinks. “Um… take care of Jack?”

“I mean-” Dean smiles lopsided. “Recreation? Friends? Family?” 

Shaking his head slowly, Castiel tries to think about the last time he hung out with anyone of his own volition. “...No.” 

Dean blinks a few times. “So… just… day in, day out, it’s just you and Jack? And work?”

Castiel nods.

“No wonder you feel like death,” Dean announces. “Dude, you gotta see other adults.” 

Rubbing his hand over his face, Castiel sighs. “How do I do that? I’m not friends with anyone from work. My brother Gabriel is on the other side of the country and… my cousin Balthazar lives close, but I’d rather not have him meet Jack until he’s a teenager.” 

“Ok, well, dunno if you’ve noticed, but _I’m_ right here.” 

Looking up, Castiel tries to search for any insult in Dean’s expression, but only finds warmth and openness. “What?” he says smartly.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Claire and Jack are two peas in a pod, man. They obviously gotta hang out more- it’s _good_ for them. And y’know what? Maybe _you_ need to be adopted. By me. And my friends.”

“Do you want me to call you daddy?” Castiel asks flatly.

He’s shocked to see Dean’s ears turn red. “I mean- if that floats your boat.” 

Castiel’s eyes narrow. 

“DADDY!” 

Jack and Claire come rushing to the picnic blanket, flushed with joy and looking windswept. 

“I’m thirsty pwease,” Jack says, making grabby hands. 

“Me too, daddy!” Claire says. While Jack stays standing, she clambers onto Dean’s lap without invitation, plopping herself down comfortably. 

Both men busy themselves with getting drinks. By the time they’ve handed the kids their drinks, the sun has risen a little higher; Dean breaks out the sunscreen, applying it to a squirming Claire’s face, before offering Castiel the bottle. It’s wrestlemania trying to get the lotion anywhere on Jack’s skin, but at least Jack is laughing, not crying, as he squirms around to try and get free from Castiel’s grip.

It’s incredible, Castiel thinks, the change in Jack’s demeanor just from being with Claire alone.

Once they’re hydrated and sunscreened, they’re off again. 

“How old is Claire?” Castiel asks. 

Dean cracks open a water bottle. “Four… and a half, ish.”

“Ish,” Castiel repeats wryly.

Dean rolls his eyes. “I’m not into the weird age bullshit. Like, ‘oh, my baby is twenty-four months!’. Jesus. No, Debra, your kid is two years old.”

A surprised laugh leaves Castiel’s mouth, his hand flying up to cover it. “I’m sure you were really popular with all the other parents.” 

“As a matter of fact, every single mom in Claire’s preschool asked me for my apple pie recipe, so, yeah, you could say I’m kind of a big deal,” Dean sniffs. 

“You bake?” 

“And cook. And clean, and bust whatever toxic masculinity stereotype there is out there. No ‘Mr. Mom’. Just ‘Dad’.” 

“A true crusader,” Castiel says seriously.

The laugh Dean lets out is rainbows and sunshine. The way it settles deep into Castiel’s chest is worrisome. 

“Do... “ Castiel licks his lips. “Do you mean it? That- we could be friends?”

“Why not?” Dean shrugs, careless but smiling. “Our kids are already deciding for us that they need more time together. And, dude-” he reaches out, playfully scratching the tips of his fingers over Castiel’s stubble. Heat burns through him in response, but Dean pulls his fingers away before he can feel it. “I thought _I_ needed a break. You’re a good lookin’ dude but you also kinda look, like, half dead.”

Castiel narrows his eyes to cover up how Dean’s weird compliment makes his belly squirm. “I’m flattered.” 

Grinning, Dean shrugs. “I’ve been told I’m a charmer.”

“Dangerously so,” Castiel replies, keeping his voice flat as he looks out towards the playground, though the corners of his lips quirk a little.

He thinks… this might be what he’s been waiting for.

\--

“Cas?” 

“Coming!”

Both men meet in the middle of Castiel’s apartment, flushed and breathless. In Dean’s arms is Claire, bawling her eyes out, snot leaking down her face, some drool dribbling over her chin as she clings to Dean and screams. Dean’s doing his best to shush her, but in his other hand is her go-bag, preventing him from wrapping her up how she likes. Castiel immediately takes the bag from Dean, putting it on the couch as Dean hugs Claire tight and puts her face in his neck.

“Shh, baby it’s ok. Look, we’re at Jack’s! We’re gonna stay here for a while tonight,” Dean says to her in a comforting voice. 

Castiel looks at Dean apologetically. “Did she just wake up from a nap?”

“It takes about fifteen to get here and she passed out the second I turned the engine,” Dean says. One hand is in her blonde locks, keeping her face pressed into his neck, her bum resting in the crook of his other arm. 

“I’m sorry-” 

“No,” Dean shakes his head sharply, narrowing his eyes at Castiel. “‘Member what I said ‘bout apologizing?”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “To stop.” 

Sending him a sunny smile, Dean says, “Yep. Where’s Jack?” 

“Dee!” Jack’s voice comes from the hallway. While he’s clearly excited to see Dean and Claire, he’s hiding around the corner of the wall, peeking out. Claire’s crying is probably keeping him from coming closer. He hasn’t seen Claire in hysterics like this before. 

“Jack,” Castiel turns, going down on one knee and gesturing his son forward. “Come here.” 

Jack’s big blue eyes look between Claire and Castiel, before he very slowly and carefully moves forward, like someone trying to not frighten a deer. When he’s within reach Castiel reaches out towards him, bringing him close. Dean is still trying to shush Claire, who is now crying so hard she’s hiccuping. 

“Jack, daddy has to go to work for a few hours,” Castiel says over the noise. 

Pouting, Jack fiddles with his tie, tugging on one end a little too hard and nearly choking him. “Ny-ny.” 

“It’s almost ny-ny time, yes,” Castiel says. He gently pries Jack’s hands away from his tie, keeping Jack’s gaze off of Claire and doing his best to talk at a volume that will also keep his attention. “Dean is going to help get you ready for bed, ok? He and Claire are going to be here while I’m gone.” 

Suddenly, Jack’s eyes overflow with tears. He doesn’t cry, but his nose and cheeks turn pink and his bottom lip trembles. “No.” 

“Jack,” Castiel rubs his bony shoulders comfortingly. “We talked about Dean babysitting sometimes. Tonight is going to be the first time. I have to go to work.” 

“No,” Jack says a little more forcefully. His little fists hit Castiel’s chest, his pouting turning into anger. “No Dee! Stay home!” 

Castiel doesn’t relent, gently grabbing Jack’s flailing fists. “Dee is going to stay here, and I am going to leave. Do you want me to put you to bed now?” 

Claire’s crying has died down a little as she comes more aware of where she is and who she’s with. She’s resting limply on Dean’s body, looking towards Jack and Castiel with flushed cheeks and wet eyes, clinging to Dean like she’ll fall into a black hole if she doesn’t. “Jack?” 

Jack, too, suddenly becomes aware of what’s happening. He looks at Claire, then at Castiel- his anger dissolves back into pouting, and instead of his fists hitting Castiel’s chest, his little fingers grasp at the lapel of his suit jacket. “How long?” 

“A few hours,” Castiel says. He picks up Jack, resting him on his hip as he walks them over to the clock hanging on the wall. He points to the first hand, “When this short stick is pointing to the ten,” he points to the number, “I will be home. But you need to be in bed when the short stick is here.” He points to the eight. 

Jack’s bottom lip trembles a bit. “Claire sleep?” 

“Maybe,” Castiel says. It’s Friday, and he and Dean haven’t really worked out the egregious details of his babysitting and whether or not that would include overnight stays. “But you and Claire can play until then, ok? You need to eat when Dean makes dinner, though.” 

Jack peers over Castiel’s shoulder at Dean. “Macaroni?” 

Dean chuckles. “Sure, kiddo. We can have some mac n’ cheese.” 

That seems to satisfy Jack. He squirms out of Castiel’s grip, and as soon as his feet are on the floor, Claire decides that she’s also over her cranky mood. They come together for a hug, Jack tugging Claire down to the floor next to the coffee table, where there’s a children’s puzzle and all its pieces. It takes half a second for them to start working on it. Breathing a sigh of relief, Castiel reaches up to loosen his tie a bit as Dean comes over. 

“You ok?” Dean asks. “That was a close call.”

“Yes, well, it’s amazing how clearly one can think when their child attempts to strangle them,” he says, redoing his tie. “Will you be able to handle them both?” He asks, not paying attention as he slips the silk fabric together. 

“Pretty sure,” Dean says. He looks at Castiel’s tie, then snorts and reaches up to smack his hands away. His confident, quick movements are suddenly tying Castiel’s tie and oh. _Oh_. “I make a killer homemade mac so that’s covered. Are you ok with me giving Jack a bath?” 

“That’s fine,” Castiel says a bit distractedly. “You can give Claire one, too. They’re young.” 

“Two birds, one stone,” Dean agrees. When he’s done with Castiel’s tie he adjusts the tie clip, smooths the fabric down his chest, then nimbly tucks the tails under the button of his suit jacket. “There we go.” 

When he lifts his pretty green eyes, time is suspended. They hold each other’s gaze for what feels like forever, an odd haze settling over them and encasing them in a bubble. They’ve seen each other frequently over the past two months, at least twice a week, Claire and Jack getting along and Dean and Castiel becoming fast friends as well. Things have been so simple, so easy, the pair of them adapting to being… well, nearly being co-parents for Claire and Jack. Castiel is infinitely attracted to Dean, but he’s kept a lid on it for the sake of their children and the fact that Dean might not view him that way (he doesn’t even know if Dean likes men, for goodness sake). Moments like this though, these tiny things that are just for them without interruptions or distractions… for a moment, Castiel can pretend that they’re a couple. 

It doesn’t hurt anything to fantasize. 

“Uh,” Dean catches himself first, pulling away and sending Castiel a sheepish grin. “What’s tonight for, again?” 

“The annual awards ceremony,” Castiel replies, voice a little thick. He clears his throat, tugging at the bottom of his suit jacket idly. “An excuse for the bigwigs to pretend they care about the grunts.” 

“Schmoozing,” Dean says with a nod. “Will there be booze?” 

“I hope so,” Castiel confesses. “I’ll be taking a taxi.”

“And home by ten, blah blah,” Dean says, waving a hand with a chuckle. “I’ll get the kids to bed and hang out.” 

“I can’t thank you enough,” Castiel suddenly says. “I haven’t been able to attend these functions for… a long time. I don’t love my job or my coworkers, but it looks bad if I don’t go.” 

“Sure,” Dean shrugs, still smiling small. “You know you’re overworked and underpaid, right?”

“You’re preaching to the choir.” Castiel picks up his wallet from the coffee table, bending to kiss Jack on the head. “Be good for Dean, ok?” 

Jack doesn’t even respond- it used to hurt Castiel when Jack didn’t say goodbye to him, but after realizing it hurt _worse_ to nag at him for a goodbye, he let up. It’s not that Jack doesn’t care, he has to remind himself. It’s that his brain is being stimulated by other things that sometimes put Castiel in the background. 

“Thanks again,” Castiel says meaningfully to Dean as he moves towards the door. 

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Dean says with a salute and a wink, before settling down onto the couch. 

His heart squeezes with an entirely new sensation as he shuts the door behind him and leaves. The sight of Dean sitting down with their kids, ready to have a night in while Castiel goes off to work…

Phew.

\--

“Ow, fuck!” 

“Fuck!!!”

“ _Dean_!”

“Sorry!”

Both Dean and Castiel are trying to stifle their laughter as Jack runs around the kitchen yelling “Fuck! Fuck!”, while the adults do their best to wrangle the mess on the table. Today’s afternoon garden DIY is a slight disaster, only because Jack and Claire are especially hyper and unable to focus. That left Dean and Castiel to do pretty much everything, which- maybe potting succulents wasn’t the best activity, but at the home and garden store Claire and Jack had been so taken with the small plants that Dean had suggested a little afternoon activity at his house for them. 

A good idea.

Terrible execution, as Dean nurses his hand, struggling to pluck a little thorn out of the palm of his hand. 

Claire starts chasing Jack, the pair of them squealing as they run round and round the table, which is covered in potting soil, pots, and a beautiful array of succulents. 

“Alright, alright!” Dean says loudly. The kids don’t stop running. “Outside, the both of ya!” 

The kids nearly break the door down in their haste to slide it open so they can head out into the backyard. Castiel has had a hand over his mouth for the last five minutes, doing his best to not laugh outright at the chaos. It’s rare that he sees Dean stressed, and while he isn’t exactly stressed right now, he’s definitely a little flustered. 

“Damn it,” Dean finally whines when the kids are out of ear shot. He shakes his hand out, “I can’t get it.” 

“Here,” Castiel steps up next to Dean as the man holds his hand out. Locating the sliver is easy. It’s tiny and really wedged in, but Castiel is gentle as he starts pinching the skin around it. Dean hisses a few times, but using a combination of pressure and his nails, Castiel gets the sliver to pop out along with a little bit of fluid. “There you go.” 

When he tilts his head up, their noses almost brush. Dean has a fond expression on his features, his verdant eyes so close Castiel can see all the shapes of gold flecks in them. They’ve fallen into such an easy symbiosis of being together, it’s only natural that they could be this close and comfortable. 

It’s almost like, this close, that Castiel could close the distance…

“DADDY!” Claire shrieks as she flings open the slider door so hard it bounces back and nearly shuts again. “THERE ARE WORMS!” 

“Where are you digging?” Dean asks, some paranoia leaking into his voice. His house is beautiful, big and cozy, his yard perfectly landscaped and manicured. He’s not a vain man by any means, but he does have pride in the work he’s done fixing up his home.

“Mud puddles!”

“ _Mud puddles_?” Castiel repeats, whipping around and starting to move towards the door. 

Claire is already off like a shot. Castiel and Dean both get through the sliding door and look out at the yard, where there is one large mud puddle, right where Dean had removed sod with the intent of putting a bird bath. In the middle of it is Jack, covered head to toe in mud- and there Claire goes, jumping in feet first, splashing them both and completely covering them. 

“Well,” Dean says. “I guess they’ll be getting a bath today.” 

Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. “It seems like it.” 

\--

“Where’s Dee?” Jack asks one Saturday morning, messily spooning Cheerios into his mouth and missing more than landing. 

Not at all surprised by the inquiry, Castiel continues slicing bananas to drop into Jack’s bowl. “He and Claire are at home.” 

“Claire is my sister,” Jack says confidently.

Castiel arches a brow. “Oh?”

“Mmhmm,” Jack does his best to try and get some cereal and a banana slice onto his slightly oversized spoon. “She’s my best fwiend.” 

“She is,” Castiel agrees. His heart swells a little at Jack’s declaration. He’s come such a long way in the past few months, and Castiel doesn’t really like to think of Jack being dependent on another child for growth, but even the doctors have noticed a great improvement in Jack’s affect. Being friends with Claire certainly hasn't hindered. 

“Will we play today?” Jack asks. He finally gets a banana slice in his mouth, slurping it up and leaning over his bowl as some milk dribbles out of his mouth. 

“They’re busy today,” Castiel says regretfully. “But we can see if we can play tomorrow, ok?” 

“Ok!” Jack says, his little feet swinging in the air. 

Incredible. Less and less Jack throws fits over things that used to set him off. Castiel looks at his child with love and wonderment, feeling every space in his body and soul be filled with Jack’s progress. Being a single parent isn’t so daunting anymore. 

And yet… 

A little voice whispers in his head.

_Are_ you a single parent, anymore?

Dean has helped out so much. The fact that he doesn’t work a job and is a homemaker (Castiel still hasn’t asked how he’s so financially stable when he makes commissions on furniture only every once in a while) has saved Castiel so many times. Days when Jack is too stressed to go to daycare, days when Jack needs to be picked up from daycare, when Castiel needs to work long hours or go to a work function… Dean has been there for him.

Dean has been there for him.

A weird ball of anxiety pits in his stomach.

Picking up his phone, he calls Dean.

“‘Sup?” Dean answers on the fourth ring. 

“I’m sorry if I’m bothering you,” Castiel says, knowing Dean is visiting his brother today. “I just…” he trails off, unsure now if he should air his worries. 

“What’s up, man?” Dean says. There’s conversation in the background that becomes muffled when a door opens and closes. “You ok?” 

“I-” Some elation bubbles up in his chest. “I am. I’m- I’m very good. And I… This is out of the blue, but I wanted to thank you. You’ve helped me more than you can even imagine and I… am so appreciative, Dean.” 

“Hey,” Dean’s voice softens a bit. Castiel can imagine the small smile on his lips. “You and Jack? You guys deserve this. _You_ deserve to be good, Cas. You’re a good dad and a great friend. I help you out ‘cause I want to, and I like to, ok? You don’t gotta thank me.” 

Nodding, Castiel rests his elbows on the table. One hand holds the phone to his ear, the other covers his eyes, which are growing a little hot and wet. “You’re wonderful.”

“And you’re a catch,” Dean says easily. “We’ll get together tomorrow, ok?” 

“Right,” he inhales, then smiles. “Have a good day, Dean.”

“You, too.” 

When he hangs up, he replays their conversation. He feels nothing but warmth. His anxieties are gone. He looks at Jack, who is still happily trying to get cereal in his mouth, blessedly in a good mood and content. 

Oh, how his life has changed.

\--

“Thanks, Cas,” Sam says as Castiel comes out with an armful of unopened bottles of beer and passes them around. 

“Dean’s too busy to play host,” Castiel says as he sits down at the patio table. He looks over at Dean, who is comfortably standing in front of the grill and chatting with Sam’s wife, Jess. 

“His casa seems to be your casa,” Charlie says with a knowing grin. 

Used to the teasing, Castiel shrugs. He opens his beer with the bottle opener, then passes it to Sam so it too can be passed around the table. “I’m here enough. Sometimes he needs help, too.” 

“Mmm _hmmm_ ,” Charlie says as she opens her beer and takes a drink, eyes twinkling as they regard Castiel. 

Jess returns to the table, sitting next to Sam and smiling warmly. “What did I miss?” 

“Your beer,” Sam says, opening up a bottle and handing it to her.

“Ah, yes,” she says sagely, taking a swig.

Castiel’s eyes look past everyone to find the kids in the yard. They’re playing in the little playhouse that Dean built for Claire, a small structure with a swing set, slide, and fireman’s pole. Seeing that they’re both unharmed and still smiling, Castiel returns his attention to the table. 

“So when are you gonna move in and let Dean be your kept man?” Charlie asks, batting her eyelashes.

Glaring at her, Castiel ignores her question and turns towards Sam. “How is the firm?” 

Sam’s eyes brighten. “How’s being common-law married to my brother?” 

Feathers ruffling, Castiel stands up. “If you’d all stop, that would be wonderful.” He points at Sam. “You out of everyone should know it takes seven years to be common-law married to someone.” He then takes his beer and leaves the table, sighing as he approaches Dean.

“Uh-oh,” Dean says, turning when he senses Castiel nearby. “What happened? You’re like a storm cloud, dude. You’re messing up my tan lines.”

“You’re fine,” Castiel says idly. “Are you aware that your family thinks we are together?” 

Dean sends him a mild look. “Yeah?” 

Castiel rubs a hand over his features. “It doesn’t bother you?”

Suddenly, Dean’s expression shutters a little as he regards Castiel with a bit of curiosity. “Does it… bother you?” 

“Not particularly,” Castiel looks back towards the table, where Charlie and Jess are engaged in a conversation that makes Sam look greatly uncomfortable. “But their teasing gets… a little old.”

“Just tell ‘em to knock it off,” Dean says, picking up the grill spatula. 

“It’s alright,” Castiel says, watching Dean’s expression curiously. After a moment, he says, “Jack called Claire his sister.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of Dean’s lips. “Did he.” 

“Mmhmm,” Castiel brings his beer up for a drink. 

“That’s sweet,” Dean says, looking out at where the kids are playing. “Way better than adults tryna push the whole ‘girlfriend’ thing, like two kids of the opposite sex can’t just be friends.” 

Nodding in agreement, Castiel finds himself looking out at the kids and smiling as well. “He gets better every day. His last meltdown was two weeks ago.”

“Really?” Dean looks at Castiel, brows arched in surprise. “What was it about?” 

“I can’t even remember,” Castiel says with a nearly delirious laugh. “We worked through it together and he… was fine.”

“Huh,” Dean grins, reaching out to pat Castiel on the shoulder and give it a squeeze. “I’m proud of him! And you. That’s awesome, Cas.” 

Smiling a bit broader, Castiel suddenly remembers, “Oh! His birthday is coming up in a few weeks.” 

“Wanna have his party here?” Dean asks.

“I don’t even know if anyone from his daycare will come,” Castiel says thoughtfully. “I think he finally made a friend or two…”

“Even if it’s just us, we can throw a shindig,” Dean says. He starts flipping the burgers, the tantalizing scent wafting around them. 

“I appreciate that, Dean,” Castiel says softly.

Shooting him a glance, Dean’s expression softens as well. “You know… there’s not much I wouldn’t do for you two, right?” 

Feeling his heart flip over in his chest, Castiel nods. “I’m beginning to understand.” 

“Hey lovebirds!” Comes Charlie’s voice. “When will those burgers be done? I wanted salt and pepper not goo-goo and ga-ga!” 

“Nice,” comes Sam’s voice, followed by the sound of a high-five.

Dean whips around, pointing at them with his spatula. “Shaddup!” 

Castiel laughs behind his hand. 

There’s not much he wouldn’t do for Dean and Claire, either.

\--

Jack’s birthday ends up being a quiet affair. Castiel and Jack go over to Dean’s house for the weekend, planning a big slumber party for the kids. When they arrive to Dean’s house Jack is absolutely ecstatic to see that the living room has been turned into a giant blanket fort; blankets and cushions and pillows held up by broom and mop handles, twinkle lights strung along prettily. There’s a stack of DVDs in front of the television, snacks on the coffee table that had been pushed off to the side, and two sleeping bags inside the blanket fort.

“DEE!” Jack screams when he sees it, looking around for Dean, who comes out of the kitchen with a smile. Dean and Castiel exchanged keys a few months ago, and while Castiel doesn’t really like dropping in on him unannounced, catching him off-guard sometimes warms him in a way nothing else does.

Dean bends a little, tossing the dish towel over his shoulder and holding his arms out. Jack squeals and runs towards him, throwing his arms around his neck and kicking his legs as Dean straightens and holds him tight. “Heya, squirt! Happy birthday!”

“Happy birthday!” Jack says in return.

Dean just chuckles, squeezing Jack a few times and rocking side to side, before putting him down. “Ready for a sleepover?” 

“YES!”

As of yet, in the past six months, they haven’t had a real sleepover- at least, a _purposeful_ overnight excursion. Now and again during babysitting Dean and Castiel have crashed on each other’s couches, but this is an entirely unique situation. The kids know that they’ll be staying overnight, the adults know they’ll be staying overnight. It’s very… novel. Castiel admits to himself that he, too, is pretty excited. 

“Hey,” Dean says, walking up to Castiel. They reach for each other automatically, hands on each other’s biceps as they greet each other before watching as Claire comes barreling down the stairs, shrieking for Jack. 

“Where do they get the energy?” Castiel wonders aloud.

“Hell if I know,” Dean says with a snort. “Wanna put your bags away?”

“Yes please,” Castiel says.

“Guest room is up the stairs and on the right,” Dean pulls away, leaving warmth behind on Castiel’s arm as he heads back to the kitchen. He calls out to the kids, “If you knock my fort down I’m gonna knock you down!” 

Claire sticks her tongue out, “No you won’t!” 

“You’re right,” Dean detours from his path to the kitchen, making tickly-fingers towards Claire, who shrieks and runs away, “I’ll just call the tickle monster and have him take care of you!”

“NO!” Claire and Jack scream at the same time, diving into the fort and laughing as they bury themselves under pillows and blankets.

Dean cackles as he disappears into the kitchen. 

Castiel feels like he’s floating up the stairs. He’s familiar with the layout of Dean’s house, so finding the guest room isn’t an issue. As he sets his and Jack’s bags down on the bed and looks around, listening to the sound of children’s laughter and smelling the delicious lunch Dean’s cooking… he can’t imagine anything better.

Well- he can. 

But he keeps that on lock. Things between him and Dean are easy- perfect, even- and he doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize not only their friendship, but Claire and Jack’s friendship. What they’ve built together, whatever anyone wants to call it, is… beautiful. He’ll never take Dean or Claire for granted.

“Hey.”

Dean’s soft voice nearly scares Castiel out of his socks. He whips around, heart beating fast, fingers clutching the front of his shirt as he gives Dean wild eyes.

“Dean!”

Laughing, Dean leans against the door jamb and folds his arms over his chest, the expression on his features fond. Just like on the first day they met, Castiel’s senses are assaulted by how effortlessly good looking the man is. The easy lean of his body, the casual cross of one ankle over the other. The way he looks at Castiel, like he’s someone precious and dear. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. The monsters are watching Frozen. Thought I’d check up on you.”

“Have I been up here long?” Castiel asks, suddenly feeling embarrassed. How long had he been day dreaming?

“No-” Dean laughs. “Just, there’s not usually this much quiet, y’know? And when you were quiet too…” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor, smile crooked. “Dunno. It was weird.” 

“The chaos is comforting,” Castiel says, understanding perfectly.

“Yeah. So- uh. You gonna come back down?” 

“Yes,” Castiel says. He takes off his sweater, tossing it onto the bed, enjoying the coolness of being in only his t-shirt. When he turns around there’s something… he’s never seen before in Dean’s eyes, but it’s gone in a flash. “What’s for lunch?” he asks, ignoring the shiver racing up and down his spine at lightspeed. 

“Oh- uh, sandwiches. I’ve got soup simmering on the stove for dinner later.” Dean straightens from his leaned position, uncrossing his arms. Easy as anything, he holds his hand out towards Castiel. “Hungry?” 

Easy as anything, Castiel takes his hand with a smile. “Yes.” 

\--

The day passes seamlessly. Days with Dean and Claire always pass simple and quick, the kids catching on to their good moods and reflecting them with each other. They have sandwiches for lunch, they finish Frozen, they fingerpaint on the back deck, the wood speckled with rainbow colors and glitter, Dean not having a care in the world. They go on a walk around the neighborhood, Claire asking a neighbor very politely if she can pick their flowers. She makes herself and Jack flower crowns, but runs out of flowers to make one for Castiel or Dean; before she cries Jack suggests bracelets, which end up working out fine. Late spring sees the sun in the sky for a long time, so when Dean says they have to go home for dinner, even Castiel is surprised.

Dinner is lovely. The chicken noodle soup Dean made is delicious, the kids wolfing it down and asking for seconds almost immediately. It goes wonderful with the homemade biscuits, which Castiel thinks Jack has more of than the soup itself. After dinner Dean surprises both Castiel and Jack with a birthday cake- chocolate with chocolate icing and a clumsily lettered ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY JACK’ written on it with red icing. Claire announces that she helped, Jack hugs her so tight Castiel has to pry them apart, and… well, toddlers eating cake ensued, which meant Castiel and Dean had their hands full.

By eight o’clock the kids are passed out in the blanket fort, bodies bathed and teeth brushed. Castiel and Dean are on the one love seat that managed to stay intact during the fort building, bottles of beer in hand and the news playing on mute with the stereo playing low. Together they take in a deep breath and let it out, then chuckle a little as they settle in. 

“What a day,” Dean says. 

“This is the best birthday Jack has ever had,” Castiel replies quietly.

“He’s only had four,” Dean teases.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Don’t ruin the moment, you ass. This is…” his tone softens as he looks at where Claire and Jack are passed out in their sleeping bags, their hands still clasped together even in slumber. “This is something really special.”

“They really are bonded,” Dean agrees. “Jack even plays alright with Claire’s friends. He’s come a long way since I saw him screaming at you in the park.” 

Another eye roll. “I’m sure it was very charming.” 

“Caught my attention,” Dean snorts.

“As well as every other parent at the park.” Castiel sighs. “People either thought I was some sort of abusive father due to his fits, or completely ignored him and tried to hit on me by asking where his mother was." He takes a sip of his beer. "Those moments passed fairly quickly when I told them she’s dead.”

Dean sucks in a breath, “Jesus, Cas, you could just say you’re not interested.” 

“Kelly would think it’s hilarious,” he says with a smirk, then shrugs and leans back into the cushy couch. “And even if I could get along with someone who approached me, let alone thought about dating them, it would come up anyway. There are… a lot of people out there who either don’t understand, or can’t handle that information. They think Jack and I are some sort of sob story. It’s best to just put it out there, even if it is crass.” 

“I mean… I relate,” Dean says thoughtfully. “I haven’t dated at all since Claire came into my life. For pretty much the same reasons. No one understands why someone would _want_ to be a single dad.” 

Nodding slowly, Castiel watches the twinkle lights cast pretty shadows over Jack’s sleeping face. “It’s not that dating hasn’t crossed my mind. I’ve had my hands full. And I can’t stand the pity that people give me when I tell them about Kelly.” 

A moment of silence passes over them. They sit in it comfortably, sipping their beers and observing their children. 

Dean shifts a little before he says, “Meetin’ you and Jack… There’s not a day I don’t think about how lucky I am.”

Turning his gaze towards Dean, he arches a brow, wishing his heart would stop doing cartwheels. “Really?” 

Dean meets his eyes. The expression on his features is open, beautiful and honest. “Really. I mean- Jack has improved a lot so I know you’re basically thankful that he has Claire as a friend. Which is good, and I love that. But I… I’ve benefited a lot from our relationship, too.”

Relationship. 

“Before you an’ Jack, Claire and I were good. I had my family and friends and she was spoiled rotten by all of them. But then- your routines with Jack, how you handle him when he’s about to have a meltdown, and by extension how you care for Claire and treat her… It’s been really special. Both of our kids have been impacted by us and that’s nothing to take lightly.” 

Oh. Oh, Dean is suddenly so close. When did he move into Castiel’s space? He nearly goes cross-eyed trying to meet his gaze, Dean’s so close. 

“We have somethin’ really special, Cas. Me, you, Claire and Jack. You’re… you’re family.” 

Castiel can’t breathe. His breath is stopped in his throat, lungs seizing as he absorbs Dean’s words and takes in the look in his eyes. He’s pinned to the spot in the most pleasant of ways, his body turned towards the other man and, hopefully, inviting him in closer. 

“Dean, I…” 

“Daddy?” Jack’s tiny voice comes from the blanket fort. Castiel hones in on it immediately, even if disappointment flashes through his body as he turns to watch Jack untangle himself from his sleeping bag. “Daddy…” 

“Hey, baby,” Castiel says, putting his beer on the side table and opening his arms up. “What’s wrong?” 

Jack completely bypasses Castiel, looking adorably rumpled in his bear onesie. He climbs up into Dean’s lap, who looks at Castiel in surprise before handing over his beer. Until today, Jack hasn’t been physically affectionate like this with Dean very often. Less than a few times, and usually only when he’s very distressed and Castiel can’t pick him up right away. But right here, right now, Jack crawling onto Dean and snuggling into his chest, little fists curling into the front of his worn t-shirt, Jack looks exactly at home. 

“Dee… daddy,” the little boy murmurs, before falling asleep in Dean’s arms, oblivious and peaceful.

Castiel and Dean stare at each other, frozen.

“Did he just…”

“...Call you ‘daddy’...?” 

Dean’s cheeks flush prettily. He looks down at Jack’s head, sandy blond curls going this way and that, thumb in his mouth for comfort as he goes right back into a deep sleep. Jack most definitely knows that he’s on Dean’s lap, not Castiel’s. Dean looks at Jack with the kind of wonder that Castiel knows he looks at Jack with, and oh.

_Oh._

“Dean,” Castiel says, suddenly unable to beat around the bush. When Dean looks at him, he braces himself, leaning forward a bit. “I am going to kiss you.”

Dean looks a little surprised, but he grins and nods, doing his best to lean in while not disturbing Jack. They meet halfway, a sweet, lingering kiss, Castiel’s belly doing flips and his heart bursting and fireworks exploding behind his closed eyelids. When they part, Dean’s expression is a little dopey, his smile crooked and his eyes soft, soft as they’ve always been whenever looking at Castiel or Jack. 

“Gross,” comes Claire’s sleepy voice. She had rolled over when Jack left, watching their exchange sleepily. 

“You’re gross,” is Dean’s automatic, mature response.

Claire, tired as she is, rolls her eyes before face planting into her pillow and passing out again. 

Covering his mouth to quiet his laughter, Castiel looks at Dean with so much love and affection he feels like he’s going to burst.

“I been waitin’ for this,” Dean says quietly.

“I thought I’d been waiting for it and didn’t even know I already had it,” Castiel says, setting Dean’s beer down next to his before scooting closer to him. Together they rest back against the couch, Jack sprawling over both of them in his sleep. Castiel pulls the blanket off of the back of the couch and drapes it over him, rubbing his back softly. 

As Castiel pillows his head on Dean's shoulder, the man says, "Stay?"

Castiel hums, "Of course."

"I mean-" Dean shifts a little, causing Castiel to fall more comfortably into him. "Move in. Stay with us. Be… be here. Quit your shitty job. Be a dad."

"I can't quit my job," Castiel says. Warmth fills him with Dean's invitation, but he can't just fly into things recklessly. 

"Ok, then… find a different job. Somethin' you wanna do."

Lifting his head, Castiel squints. "That's a flight of fancy I… can't afford."

Dean's smile is crooked. "You can't afford it, but I can."

Narrowing his eyes further, Castiel looks at Dean's sheepish features. Something turns over in his brain, reminding him that technically Dean doesn’t have an actual job. "Dean… how did you come into your small fortune?"

Coughing a little at the question, Dean tilts his head to stare at the ceiling. He takes a second, then says, "Remember how I said I was uhhhhh...somewhat of a delinquent most of my life until Claire showed up?"

"Oh my God," Castiel sits up, jaw dropping as he looks at Dean, "you're a criminal? Wanted by the FBI. In the mafia. A cat bur-"

"Jesus, no-" Dean laughs, then quiets so he doesn't disturb Jack. "No, Cas, Jesus. I was an escort. My last client literally paid a small fortune as well as commission for me to be monogamous to her."

"I'm not sure that's better," Castiel says dryly, though the corner of his lip quirks.

Dean shrugs, "It paid the bills, _and_ I can live comfortably for the rest of my life. My furniture is pocket change."

"I'm sorry, I missed the part where you didn't tell me about this until I told you I love you."

"You didn’t say that."

"It was implied," Castiel scowls. 

"Look, not that I think you'd judge, but it's not exactly dinner conversation to tell the guy I'm into that I used to be a fancy prostitute."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Castiel bites down his sarcastic reply. "I don't mind that you were an escort, Dean. What I care about is you not mentioning it."

"Oh." Dean blinks, then licks his lips. "Then… surprise?"

“Is there anything else you would like to tell me before I tell you what side of the bed I like to sleep on?” Castiel asks mildly.

“Ummmmmmm,” Dean looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully, blowing a soft raspberry from his lips. “I don’t care which way the toilet paper goes.” 

“Deal breaker,” Castiel says, shifting to stand up.

Laughing, Dean flails out a hand to grab the back of Castiel’s shirt to tug him back down onto the couch. “That just means you can refill it whatever way you want!” 

Unable to contain his smile, Castiel regards Dean fondly as they snuggle up with each other and Jack, who continues to sleep deeply. “I suppose.”

Together with Dean, Jack tucked safely in his arms, Castiel curled into his side, Claire snuggled up with a mountain of pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals… 

Yes, Castiel thinks.

This is what he’s always wanted.

He can’t believe he’s able to have it.

\--

“Well lookitchu,” Dean crows from the stove, where he’s currently flipping pancakes.

Castiel looks up at Dean, then follows his gaze to the entry of the kitchen, where Jack is standing. It’s his first day of pre-school and he’s been talking nonstop about it for a week. Since integrating into being a family with Claire and Dean, Jack has blossomed more and more. He still has his fits, still has meltdowns, but they’re less and less and way easier to manage. He hadn’t liked daycare, but he’s ecstatic about pre-school once he learned that Claire had gone last year and enjoyed it quite a bit. The doctors have actually eased off, as well, telling Castiel to keep a vigilant eye, but also acknowledging Jack’s progress.

Jack has dressed himself in jeans (unbuttoned) and a button-down shirt (also unbuttoned), one of Castiel’s ties draped clumsily around his neck.

Castiel’s heart melts.

“Hello, Jack,” he greets. “You look very handsome.” 

Jack’s eyes are a little tearful, his grip on the backpack hanging from his left hand tightening. “I can’t tie wike you, daddy.” 

Getting off of the stool he’s been planted on for most of the morning, Castiel steps over to Jack and crouches, reaching up to take hold of the tie. “That’s alright, honey. I can do this for you.” 

“Dressed for success, huh?” Dean asks, plating the pancakes and putting them on the table, which is set with butter and syrup. “Just like dad.” 

Jack puffs his chest out. “Yeah.” 

Claire comes running into the kitchen, a whirlwind of curly blonde hair, ribbons, and tutus. She climbs up into a chair at the table, grabbing a fork as she settles and then pouts over at Dean. “They’re not cut.” 

“‘Dad, would you cut my pancakes please?’” Dean says from the stove. 

Claire rolls her eyes “ _Daaaaaaddy_ , can you cut them please?” 

Dean brings another plate over, switching it for the one in front of Claire. “This plate is for Cas. _This_ one is yours. All cut up. Look at that.” 

She sticks her tongue out at him. “This is my chair!” 

“I don’t see your name on it,” Dean says maturely. 

Castiel picks Jack up after completing his tie and fixing his clothes, staring at Dean in disbelief. “How did you make it this far as a single parent?” 

“She turned out ok,” Dean says with a shrug. “...I think.” 

Bringing Jack over to the table, Castiel sets him down in his seat. He’s still a picky eater, so his pancakes only have butter, not syrup. He’s developed a fear of getting sticky or dirty in the past few months, so teaching him how to use a fork and a dull children’s knife had been quite the trick. He does fine, though. Castiel still cuts up most of his food for him, making sure Jack mimics the cutting motion so he can figure out how to do it on his own. 

“Finish your coffee, babe,” Dean says. He finally brings a bowl of scrambled eggs and a plate of hash browns to the table. “Won’t you be late?”

“Your brother will probably be late,” Castiel says as he sits. The table is a square, fitting all of them perfectly; Castiel and Dean across from each other and Claire and Jack adjacent to them. 

“He’s a sucker,” Dean rolls his eyes as he grabs Castiel’s coffee, putting it in front of him before taking his own seat. “Jess is perfectly capable of handling herself.” 

“A pregnant woman rarely refuses to be spoiled by her partner,” Castiel says sagely. “Though, Kelly would beat me with a pillow sooner than take it as an offering.” 

“Jess is a whip, too,” Dean snorts. 

Breakfast is a quick affair. Originally Dean was going to take the kids to school while Castiel went off to work, but seeing Jack at the table, dressed so smartly and so excited- he shoots a text to Sam telling him he’ll be late. He wants to see off his child. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Dean, oh, not at all; this is a huge moment in Jack’s life and he wants to be there for it. 

Everyone gets up when they’re done eating. Dean insists that they leave the mess so he can clean it up later, which ushers them out the door faster. There’s a traffic jam in the back mud room as everyone tries to find their shoes at the same time, the cubbies Dean made rendered useless in the eyes of two small children. Dodging over and around each other, stepping on someone’s toes with a resounding “OW!”- the kids are out the door first, leaving Dean and Castiel chest-to-chest, Castiel’s back against the wall and Dean’s smirk pinning him there. 

“Well hello,” Dean says smoothly, nearly cheesy. “Haven’t seen you ‘round here before.”

“Oh,” Castiel bats his lashes, “I must have misplaced my coat, sir. Could I trouble you?” 

“I can keep you warm,” Dean murmurs, leaning in close. He starts nibbling on Castiel’s ear, his warm breath spreading down his neck and ruffling his hair. 

It flips Castiel’s tummy pleasantly, flushes his body with the promised heat, his hands sliding around Dean’s waist to drop and get two palmfulls of his ass-

“DAD!” Claire and Jack both yell from the driveway, blessedly out of sight.

Dean growns, burying his forehead into Castiel’s shoulder. “Dude, I can’t wait for us to be home without the rugrats. School is a blessing.”

“You’ll miss them,” Castiel says idly, patting Dean’s back comfortingly. Humming, he smiles and walks his fingers down Dean’s spine. “Since Sam and I are both going to be late to the firm… perhaps, after we drop off the kids, we can come home and…” he trails off, slipping his middle finger down the back of Dean’s pants, gently dipping it into the top of his crack.

Playfully growling, Dean bites at Castiel’s neck before pulling away, green eyes bright. “You’re on.” 

Ten minutes later they’re trailing after the kids at the school. Claire’s starting kindergarten, which is in the main building, while a pod holds the pre-schoolers so while their lessons are separate, they can all access the main playground. Claire hugs Castiel’s legs, he pats her head, and then she hugs Dean’s legs, who doesn’t accept that. He picks her up, twirls her around, then sets her back down again with a kiss to her forehead. 

“Fuck it up, ok?” 

“Ok!” She declares, before running off.

Castiel rolls his eyes, getting down on one knee so he can be on Jack’s level. “Don’t repeat those words, alright Jack?” 

He nods, big blue eyes feigning wisdom. 

“Be a good boy,” he continues, cupping Jack’s cheek gently, thumbing just under his eye. Not a tear to be seen, even though Castiel’s own chest is slightly constricted. This time last year the doctor’s had been suggesting holding off on pre-school so Jack could ‘mature’ more, and yet… here they are. “Dean will be picking you up today, ok? When I get home you can tell me all about it.” 

Jack smiles without teeth, the dimples in his teeth deepening as he leans in to hug Castiel. “Ok, daddy!” He pulls away, waves to Dean, and then walks on bouncy feet towards where his teacher is ushering all of the pre-schoolers in. 

Standing up, Castiel folds his arms tightly across his midriff. Parents talk all the time about how hard it is to send your kid off to school, but experiencing it in person is a totally different thing.

“Hey,” Dean interrupts his thoughts, slinging his arm around Castiel’s waist. He leans in to press a soft kiss to his cheek, “How ‘bout we go home and take your mind off of things?” 

“You can’t distract me from this moment with sex,” Castiel says wetly. 

“You sure?” Dean squishes a fraction closer. “Because there’s a kid-free house at home and I have always, _always_ wanted to be fucked over the arm of the couch.” 

Castiel turns in his arms completely, bypassing Dean and heading towards the car. “The kids will be fine.” 

Dean’s raucous laughter follows him, Castiel smiling to himself as his nerves disappear like a flock of butterflies. 

This is what he didn’t know he was waiting for.


End file.
